


Overwatch 420/69 Days: A Torb76 fanwork

by slywining (allagainstjoffrey)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, torb76
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8299556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allagainstjoffrey/pseuds/slywining
Summary: Overwatch is in its heyday. Romance, too, is in its heyday...





	1. Days 1-69

**Day 1**

The new recruit was Swedish, and the first thing that struck Jack about him was how small he was. He came up to about Jack’s nipple height. Four and a half feet of pure Swedish muscle and luscious blond hair.

“Hëllö,” Torbjorn said. He stroked the braids of his beard with his claw arm, and winked, although considering he just had one eye he could easily have just been blinking. He solved the mystery by saying _“WÏNK!”_ in a heavy Swedish accent.

Jack found himself blushing.

“Come this way and get settled in,” he said loudly. Too loudly. Torbjorn twirled his braids between his meaty, sausage-like fingers and smirked a little.

 

**Day 5**

Jack invited Torbjorn to the barbecue he held every week for Overwatch members. Torbjorn watched him roll the sausages on the grill with a keen eye.

“Do that to my dïck ömg,” he said.

Jack blinked.

“What did you just say?”

“Ohh… nöthing.” Torbjorn picked up a sausage, gave it a liberal coating of bbq sauce. Something stirred within Jack. He pushed it back down.

 

**Day 11**

Gabriel and Jack sat watching the agents practice a training drill. Jack’s eyes were drawn to Torbjorn, who was bent over and crooning gently to a newly constructed turret, his rotund butt poked cheekily and pertly in Jack’s direction. The hairs on Jack’s arms stood to attention.

_What does he want from me?_

“What was that?”

Jack scowled. He hadn’t meant to speak aloud.

“Nothing… hey Gabe?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you make of our new members? Like uh… Torbjörn, for example?” Jack looked sideways at Gabe, who rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“He’s a good addition to the team.”

“Mmm…” Jack looked back at Torbjorn, who was whispering to another turret. Jack looked at Torbjorn’s short yet supple arms wrapped around the cool metal, and he felt some kind of way.

 

**Day 20**

“I got you some lunch with extra bbq sauce on it. I know it’s your favoürite –“

“What, you think I can’t get my own lunch?”

Torbjorn’s lip wobbled and Jack instantly felt – guilty?

“It tastes nice,” he grunted. “Uh – I appreciate it.”

Torbjorn beamed as bright as his corn-coloured beard.

**Day 31**

One month. One month since the new recuits had come in. Jack looked at the employee appraisals he had to do. “Torbjorn Lindholm” the top sheet read. He was smiling in the picture, beaming at some unseen cameraman. Jack wondered idly where that cameraman had sat on a scale of 1-10 attractiveness compared to him. Jack was a 10, of course, but they must have been pretty close to him to get a reaction like that out of Torbjorn… and where did Torbjorn fall? Jack thought of the curves of torbjorn’s arms. The way his overalls clung to his round ass. His long braids, always perfected plaited, and so soft-looking…

Jack realised he had been staring into space for the past ten minutes. He blinked and shook his head, then went down and checked “extremely satisfactory” in every column on Torbjorn’s sheet.

 

**Day 39**

Torbjorn was the only person at the weekly barbecue, everyone else gone out on a very important mission. Jack was too busy to leave. Torbjorn just wasn’t needed. They stood in comfortable silence; Jack in his “Kiss the Cook” apron that he’d written “Don’t” in front of with a sharpie, and Torbjorn watching Jack flip patties as he usually did.

“Can I try that?”

Jack nodded, and undid the strings of his apron and draped it over Torbjorn. It came down to Torbjorn’s tree-trunk ankles. He took a sip from his Best Boss Ever mug (Mccree had found it at a Goodwill) and watched Torbjorn work his meat.

“Your technique could use some work,” Jack said, and he put his hand over Torbjorn’s. A thrill like electricity ran though him. Torbjorn caught his eyes and they gazed into each other’s faces, and then they were making out, burgers forgotten. Torbjorn tasted like a mixture of engine oil and barbecue sauce, and the flavour made Jack as hot and hard as one of Torbjorn’s turrets.

“Fuck, Torbjorn,” Jack groaned when they pulled apart to breathe for a second. “I need you.”

“Call me Torby. All my friends do…”

“Torbjorn,” Jack said firmly, and Torbjorn sagged a little. “Fuck me now.”  
“Oooöh,” Torbjorn gasped. “I thought you’d never äsk.”

And then Jack put his dicc into Torbjorn’s pert ass, and it was good.

 

**Day 41**

“So, did you boys do anything exciting while we were away?” Ana asked. Torbjorn stretched himself up to his full height, which was still nowhere near her face, and seemed about to explode with smugness.

“Oh yoü know… just jäcking öff…. _wïnk!”_

Jack would see Ana’s expression in his nightmares.

 

**Day 42**

“Did you like my pün, Jäck? They had no idea what I was talking about!”

Torbjorn laughed. Jack wanted to cry.

 

**Day 48**

Jack lay on Torbjorn’s bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“A turret,” he said.

“Yës.”

Jack counted the nails on the ceiling, traced their geometric pattern with his eyes.

“A _turret._ ”

“Yës.”

“You’re sure it’s safe? It won’t – y’know –“

Torbjorn scoffed. “ Don’t be stüpid, Jack. What kind of idiot builds a turret you can’t fuck?”

“I… I’ll do it. I’ll give it a try.”

Torbjorn jumped for joy – literally jumped for joy – and began work, his strong thick arms hammering and banging. Jack looked at the smile on his face and felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with being high on diesel fumes.

 

**Day 53**

User: John Jack Morrison

Search history:

  * What does “huckleberry” mean
  * Great birthday gifts for a woman co-worker
  * Good woman birthday gifts
  * Foot fetish
  * Do I have a foot fetish?
  * Guide to teenage slang
  * Swedish translate
  * Bbq sauce as lube
  * Bbq sauce sexy
  * What do Swedish people find attractive
  * Sweden
  * How to put the dots an o
  * Relationship advice
  * How long do you have to be together to be considered dating
  * What does it mean if you think of someone every day since you met them?



 

**Day 64**

It was Ana’s birthday. The whole of Overwatch was there, and getting very, very drunk. Torbjorn leaned over and tried to smack his lips against Jack’s cheek, but missed and slurped his tongue in his ear instead. Jack froze, but no-one seemed to be looking.

“Get off me,” he hissed, and shoved Torbjorn away. His fingers dug into Torbjorn’s soft belly.

“But babe…” Torbjorn slurred.

“No,” Jack growled in a low whisper. “We’ve talked about this. We’re not telling anyone.”

“But Jäck…” Torbjorn’s words were cut short as he leaned over the back of the couch to throw up. Jack stared at his back, his heart pounding.

Was he embarrassed? There was no rule against dating co-workers in Overwatch. Although of course, he reminded himself, they weren’t dating. They were just friends. With benefits. Friends who fucked each other and sometimes each other’s turrets as well. What was wrong with that? Nothing, that’s what. Jack had another drink.

 

**Day 69**

“I løve yöu,” Torbjorn whispered into the curve of Jack’s lips. Jack stared at him.

“Thanks.”

 

 


	2. Days: 70-420

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in paradise?

**Day 72**

“I love you.”

 

**Day 73**

He wouldn’t stop saying it.

**Day 74**

They weren’t even dating!

**Day 75**

Besides, he, Jack Morrison wasn’t even gay. Women? He loved them.

“God, I love m-“ Jack mumbled.

**Day 76**

Nobody had knocked on his door all evening. Jack looked at the time, sighed, and put the barbecue sauce bottle back into its carry case.

“Waste of money anyway, using it like that.”

He looked at the oil stains that refused to shift from the carpet at the foot of his bed. 

I wonder if he has any more turrets he’s not using lying around, he thought, and then he went and jacked off for exactly five and half minutes.

 

**Day 80**

“Hey, Reinhardt. Have you seen Torbjorn?”

Reinhardt jumped and fumbled his phone. Jack saw a flash of yellow - an achingly familiar shade of yellow - as it fell, then Reinhardt snatched it up in a meaty hand and buried it in his pocket.

“No…”

“Then who was that on your phone background?”

“What?”

“I saw.” Jack’s voice shook, and he spat the words out. “I saw the picture. I’d know that turret, and that beard, anywhere -”

“ Ich verstehe nicht?”

“I know you speak English, you - you -” 

Jack sighed.

“Never mind. Let me know if you see him.”

“Yes.”

Jack stalked off, his entire body shaking. Why? Why? It wasn’t as if they were dating. He didn’t like men, anyway. Certainly not Torbjorn. Far too small. His ass was too round. It was like a moon. It had its own gravity, and Jack’s dick was trapped in its orbit.

Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t gay, anyway.

 

**Day 96**

Jack cleared his throat. The mic crackled, and he jumped a half step back.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve never done this before…”

The beret had fallen into his eyes again. Jack had always wanted to wear one, just in a casual setting, because it looks cool. That it served a double purpose in hiding his identity as Overwatch’s most desirable bachelor was an added bonus.

“So, this is, um, based off one of my favourite songs…”

“Just read it!” someone shouted from the back of the room. Jack almost yelled “Quiet, soldier!” before remembering where he was. He cleared his throat, making no effect on the lump clogging it. A bead of sweat drizzled down his nose and onto his nose. The salty taste reminded him of something.

“Um, here goes…

 

_ I was angry and sad when I knew were through _

_ I can’t count all the times I doused you in BBQ. _

_ And when you go _

_ When you slam the door _

_ I think to myself _

_ Mamma mia! _

_ Here I would go again _

_ If I wasn’t straight _

_ Mamma mia _

_ I can resist you because I’m not gay - _

Jack didn’t see who starting booing, but the crowd rapidly took it up and raised it to a crescendo. Jack’s beret tumbled into his eyes, which were prickling with heat. He dropped his poetry sheet and ran for it.

 

**Day 97**

“Morning, Jack.”

Gabe set a mug of coffee down on Jack’s desk. Jack grunted his thanks.

“Rough night?”

“Yeah…”

Jack stared into the murky depths of his coffee and took a half-hearted sip. Sweet. Just how he liked it.

“You doing anything later?” 

Jack hadn’t realised Gabe was still there. He thought of the bottle of barbecue sauce on his bedside table. “Ye-”

He caught Gabe’s sympathetic gaze. 

“Ahh… maybe. I don’t know. Um, I’m very busy.”

“Well, whenever you’re free, then.”

“I - okay.” Jack smiled.

 

**Day 115**

“I’m not g-”

Gabriel interrupted him by kissing him again, and again, and again. Jack didn’t say anything more. He didn’t even mention the barbecue sauce. Somehow it just wouldn’t work.

 

**Day 117**

He was doing it again. He just sat there. Gloating. His round ass settled in Reinhardt’s voluminous lap. His claw stroking Reinhardt’s beard. Gentle fingers handing Reinhardt choice morsels off his plate. Jack’s hands balled into hot fists.

“Gabriel.”

Gabe, deeply involved in a plate of spaghetti, didn’t answer.

“Gabe!”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

“W-”

Jack leaned and kissed him on the lips. The pasta was no barbecue sauce, but the way it spread all over both of their faces brought back some pleasant memories. Gabe pulled away and stared, bemused.

“Uh,” Jack fiddled with the tablecloth and glanced over his shoulder. Torbjorn was nibbling Reinhardt’s ear. “Just thought you looked nice today?”

Gabe snorted with laughter. 

“If you say so.”

He went back to his pasta. Jack peered back at Torbjorn. Nothing.

“If that’s the way you want it…” he grunted. “Then that’s how it’s going to be.”

 

**Day 123**

They passed each other in the hallway. Jack tried to catch Torbjorn’s eye. He wasn’t sure why.

“How’s Gabriel?” Torbjorn smirked. He picked a single grey hair from the sleeve of his shirt and raised a coquettish eyebrow. Jack was struck speechless. That was how Torbjorn used to look at him, right before he pulled out the sauce.

“You’re in the way,” Torbjorn pointed out. Jack’s legs moved without his input, and he let Torbjorn through. Jack caught himself and spun around after him.

“Hey, uh, T - ”

But He was gone.

 

**Day 128**

Jack never let Gabriel kiss him when they were standing up. Then it was too obvious how much taller Gabriel was than - than average. He still didn’t dare mention the barbecue sauce.

 

**Day 134**

“How was your day, Jack?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You were there, Gabriel! What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“Well, excuse the shit out of me for being interested in someone other than myself! Sometimes I can’t stand being around you. It’s like dating a moody fifteen year old.”

“....Okay.”

“Fuck you, Jack. I’m going home.”

“Yeah.”

“Knew you were going to say that.”

  
  


**Day 140**

Jack heard shouting from Torbjorn’s room. He stopped outside. Was Torbjorn in danger? He was debating knocking the door down when it burst open of its own accord, and Reinhardt, dressed only in boxers, charged out.

“And take your hammer with you!” Torbjorn yelled.

Reinhardt made eye contact with Jack and instantly looked away. He scuttled off, his clothes bundled under one arm. 

“Oh, hello, Jack,” came a voice from his elbow. 

“Um.” said Jack.

“He doesn’t want the turrets in the same room as us! Can you believe that? And after all that time with them he suddenly comes out with it! I can’t deal with the lies anymore! It’s over,” Torbjorn sighed. He leaned his head on Jack’s chest. “At least you never lied to me.”

Jack’s heart was racing. This was the closest he’d been to Torbjorn in months. He couldn’t mess this up.

“Hhh,” he said.

“Yeah,” Torbjorn agreed, and Jack suddenly realised that right here was the only man who would ever understand him.

“Torbjorn. I.”

“I know.”

 

**Day 144**

Jack smiled at the picture Torbjorn had sent him, and blushed at the attached text. He began to text a reply, featuring a suitable number of hotdog and corncob allusions.

A pair of hands clapped themselves over Jack’s eyes. He yelped and scratched at them, tried to writhe himself free.

“Surprise!” yelled Gabriel’s voice in his ear, and the hands were removed to reveal a large gift sitting on Jack’s desk. 

“Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again,” Jack snarled. Gabriel held up his hands.

“Sorry, I was just trying to be nice...”

“Hm.” Jack looked back at the package. “What the fuck is this?”   
“It’s a present for my boyfriend as an apology for getting so mad the other day -”   
“For who?”

“For - for you, babe.”

Jack looked at the present, then Gabe, then back at the present. “You do know we’re not dating.”

Gabe blinked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nah. I’m not your boyfriend. Never was.” Jack picked up the present. “Thanks for this, though.”

He walked out. He didn’t see the look on Gabe’s face. He was lucky he didn’t see the look on Gabe’s face, because Gabe looked like he would quite gladly shoot Jack with his dual shotguns and eat his soul right there and then. Maybe one day he would. Who knows.

  
  


**Day 145**

Torbjorn stopped Jack’s hand on the buckle of his pants.

“Babe… aren’t you forgetting something?”

Jack had never opened a bottle of barbecue sauce faster in all his life. He slathered every inch of Torbjorn’s lithe torso in it, and breathed in deeply. To experience that sweet tang again after so long was like being born again. He shut his eyes and breathed in, out. Walmart brand. The best money could buy.

“Torbjorn,” he moaned.

“Yes, babe?”

“I think… I think… I think I might. I think I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And at that moment, the turret kicked into full power, and they both ascended into bliss.

  
  


**Day 420**

“Australia is beautiful at this time of year, isn’t it?” Torbjorn sighed, staring out the airplane window at the retreating red soils. “I love having a break sometimes.”

“I can’t wait to get home,” Jack grumbled.

Torbjorn sighed again.

“What?”

“I don’t know…. Don’t you feel like we’re forgetting something?”

Jack shrugged.

Torbjorn turned back to the window. “Can’t be that important, then.”

A baby’s cry caught in the wind for a second and then was whisked away, as if it had never been.


End file.
